As I draw up my breath

And silver fills my eyes

I kiss her still

For she will never rise



On my weak body

Lays her dying hand

Through those meadows of Heaven

Where we ran



Like a thief in the night

The wind blows so light

I wars with my tears

That won't dry for many years



"Love's golden arrow

At her should have fled

And not Death's ebon dart

To strike her dead"